I Tried To Do Handstands For You
by Mirax Corran
Summary: Iella-centric songfic that spans from Wedge's Gamble to Starfighters of Adumar. "She was a perfectly average person who'd had any number of unrequited crushes while she was in school. And while she was at the Academy. And in CorSec."


**Title:** I Tried To Do Handstands For You  
**Characters:** Iella, Wedge, others  
**Pairing:** Mainly Wedge/Iella. Mentions of Wedge/Qwi, and a variety of others  
**Timeframe:** _Wedge's Gamble_ through _Starfighters of Adumar_  
**Notes:** Lyrics from the song "Bruises" by Chairlift.

_Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me. If it did, I would not have screwed up the JAT the way KJA did. I'm very bitter about, because there was part of this fic that was just begging to have Winter in it and I couldn't use her because, canonically, she was off doing something that KJA made her do and can you tell that I have a bone to pick?_

So he was cute. It wasn't really that big a deal. She worked with attractive men every day. It _really_ wasn't a big deal. She'd known he was going to be cute before she even met him. The guy was only a little famous, after all.

It was just … the hundreds of posters and thousands of news items she'd seen didn't seem to think it important that his hair was fine and long enough to flutter in the slightest breeze. And even limited-distribution warrants didn't mention charming smiles.

Though perhaps they should.

Okay, so maybe she had a bit of crush. Still not that big a deal. Definitely also something she'd coped with on numerous occasions. She was a perfectly average person who'd had any number of unrequited crushes while she was in school. And while she was at the Academy. And in CorSec. There had been a fair number of requited ones, too. Including that one time with Corran – but that had just been bad all around and really, it was a good thing that hadn't gone anywhere.

Either way. She was pretty sure this specific crush wasn't going to be going much of anywhere. Unfortunately, she had something of a type – and even more unfortunately, her type tended to be very, _very_ dedicated to their jobs.

Diric was an exception. Had been?

She shook her head and tried to focus on the data Cracken had sent her for analysis. She determinedly ignored the face floating behind her eyes – which most certainly did not belong to Diric.

The sharp knock at her door made her jump.

Behind it stood Winter, looking uncharacteristically happy and – was that jealousy behind her smile?

The smile told her half of the message – Diric was home – envious sympathy told the other half.

Oh gods.

_I'm permanently black and blue  
Permanently blue for you_

Her hands were shaking. Out-of-control, barely able to grip anything shaking. She was standing completely still, afraid to move for fear all her muscles would give out.

Was she still crying? It felt like there were tears on her cheeks, but they might be old.

The hand on her shoulder was new, though, so she turned slowly. The man she was now facing smiled thinly and sadly, wiping her cheeks softly.

(Had he been a different man under different circumstances she'd have thought he was coming on to her. Under different circumstances, she'd have been inordinately pleased that he was.)

But he was a better man than that, so instead she accepted the comfort he offered silently and let him hold her.

_I tried to do handstands for you  
I tried to do headstands for you_

Everything was lovely. She'd even go so far as to say that everything was perfect. The weather was beautiful, the restaurant had been charming, the food had been delicious, and the park they were now wandering was filled with flowers from every planet she could name.

She wondered, for the thousandth time, what would happen if she were to reach out and grab his hand as they strolled. The looks he'd given her when he thought she was watching her dinner made her suspect that he would not mind at all, that he was only waiting for her to do something like that.

And she was absolutely certain that he would make no move on her.

It was tempting, the way his hand hung next to hers, swaying with his stride. They shared stories of outrageous coworkers (nearly all of his seemed to involve Wes Janson) and childhood memories. Being maybe one step shy of hanging on his every word like her life depended on it, she did not miss the implications of Mirax being like the sister he had barely known.

Being an investigator by nature, she prodded a little bit. And, shortly later, hugged him and told him that she hoped he got to see her again someday.

Yet another layer of this man so much more complex than he seemed.

She shared with him the strained relationship she had had with her father, who had first strongly discouraged her from joining CorSec and then refused to attend her wedding because he didn't want her marrying someone as old as Diric. When she went through with the wedding, he announced to her – and Diric – that he would no longer receive them into his home.

She wanted – she desperately, _desperately_ wanted to be ready to reach for his hand and walk just a little too close to him.

She didn't.

Because she wasn't sure she wanted more than laughter over good food and charming walks. Because it hadn't really been that long since Diric and she didn't want to disrespect the man she'd loved so much. Because she was hesitant to start anything with a friend. Because being his friend was enough.

For now.

It wasn't until she got home that she realized she'd told a story about Diric and not thought anything of it – he had simply been a character in the story, the way she told stories about her childhood friends. It wasn't until Wedge was off-world on some mission that she realized its significance.

_I tried to do handstands for you  
But every time I fell for you_

It was, without question, the most unpleasant feeling she'd had in quite some time. Not quite up there with having shot her own husband, but not fun.

And the whole thing just made her feel petty. She had no claim to him except in her – frequently _interesting_ – dreams, and thus had no true cause for complaint about his relationship with someone else. (Mirax seemed to disagree, and had more than once threatened physical violence because, in her words, "Wedge is just a kriffing idiot.")

But more to the point – it hurt. It really, really hurt, because she'd thought they were finally getting somewhere. She was ready for something, really truly ready to have a relationship with him and love him with all her heart.

Someone else had shown up, someone he was clearly more interested in. Which was absolutely his right, because it wasn't like she'd been broadcasting her affections. (This was where Corran disagreed. He'd muttered something about a blind nerf being able to see the way she felt about Wedge.)

This was really something she ought to talk to Winter about. Naturally, Winter was out of contact on some errand for Leia Organa Solo. Iella had, in desperation, called her office and – through some perplexing twist of fate – ended up talking to Organa Solo herself. As Iella barely knew the woman, she'd tried to keep the conversation brief, but Org—Leia was too astute for that. She had quickly asked why Iella wanted to talk to Winter and, at the ensuing hesitation, had followed it with an "Is it Wedge's fault?"

(Maybe Corran wasn't so wrong about the blind nerf thing after all.)

Her conversation with Leia had not been excessively long, but the other woman had told her some slightly heartening stories of oblivious men. Most of them were clearly about her and Han Solo, though the last though the last reminded her strongly of something Mirax had said about a friend of hers through Talon Karrde. Odd.

More importantly, Leia had given her what seemed sound advice: do what you need to do. And it seemed to Iella that she needed to be avoiding Wedge to the best of her ability.

Because it hurt less.

_But frozen things they all unfreeze__  
And now I taste like all those frozen strawberries  
I used to chill your bruising knees_

She had wanted to help him. He was doing the right thing in nearly impossible circumstances and – oh hell, who was she kidding? She was as happy as she'd been in a very long time.

And tired. Really, really tired.

But she was grinning like a teenager who'd just gotten her first kiss and the sun was shining and _Wedge loved her_. She needed to get the number of Rogriss's comm. for him, she was supposed to be at work in less than a standard hour –

But really? She didn't care at all.

It was silly and girly and she really shouldn't forgive him for so many years of pain so quickly but it was Wedge and she'd been head-over-heels for him since before she was really willing to admit it to herself.

She wondered briefly whether her father would approve of a young, if slightly more criminal, man. Shortly thereafter, she decided she didn't care. Really, it bothered her a lot more that she wasn't in a position to contact Winter who really deserved to hear about this considering all the support she'd provided (and Leia, too, for some well-timed sympathy).

Mostly she was just looking forward to seeing Wedge later.

It felt good to look forward to seeing Wedge again.

And she was still really tired.

_Got bruises on my knees for you  
And grass stains on my knees for you  
Got holes in my new jeans for you  
Got pink and black and blue for you_

For you  
So black and blue  
For you


End file.
